Argyle's CHALLENGE story for Throne of Bhaal/BIS
by Argyle
Summary: A tale of adventure and intrigue


*** Argyle's BIS Message Board Short Story Contest Entry***  
  
The Seventh Adventure (A First Revision)  
  
"Well Barkus, how do I look?" Grazyn exhaled with satisfaction after tightening the leather straps of his cuiras and adjusting the tilt of his headpiece. The leathern body armor had been a project of his for some time, and had occupied many rest hours over the last several days' journey. Grazyn was good with his hands, and good hands were never let idle on the road. Regardless of whether this was his method for dealing with the anxiety of facing the unknown, or simple diligence in making practical use of time, Grazyn was excited and proud to display the results of his labor to his companion Barkus. The armor itself was black as night, a hard-bound ox hide which protected his lean torso and upper arms. The headpiece was exceptionally ornamental, even for Grazyn's tastes, and featured a close-fit skullcap knit with two golden lion emblems facing from either side, and a long white horse-tail plume trailing downwards a full foot below his shoulders. The front brim of the cap cast a shadow across Grazyn's liquid green eyes but left his fine featured face exposed, and covered all but a few stray tangles of his brown hair. "Eh? Ye look as ferocious as a skunk, if ye ask me," replied Barkus, "an it's no wonder we don't get a troop of the stenchy rats to follow us around, ye bein' their king, har!" Barkus was a middle-aged Dwarf, not that his appearance betrayed any hint of the maladies of age. His shoulders were broad for one so short, and his eyes were unusually bright for being more gray than any identifiable hue, and his face was framed by a close-cut and thick brown beard. Barkus was busy extinguishing the little campfire he had built during their noon rest stop, kicking the embers across the forest floor and cursing and stomping upon the stubborn hot coals. He was not one who enjoyed a closeness to nature, but he knew the importance of paying respects, and no good could come from an uncontrolled fire. "Hah ha," retorted Grazyn, "now look who's a spectacle! I once read of a fantastic beast, native to the grasslands south of Sudanistan, that is known for running amongst campfires and stomping them out. They call it a Ri-nocer, I believe. But watching you prance about the place, perhaps 'tis the source of this fancy I see before me here and now! Was it you sneaking about the Sudland, stirring up such legends?" He looked on with a mirthful upturn of the corners of his mouth as Barkus pounded his way around to where he was standing. "Oh now, 'ere's one of the buggers right here on ye boot!" Grazyn howled as Barkus landed a heel squarely on his toe. "An' if ye read carefully, lad, ye'd know that the Ri-nocer ne'er lets a single spark get away! Har!"  
  
The two men laughed heartily, and although Grazyn listed to one side due to a slight discomfort in his gait, they reassembled their belongings and proceeded vigorously along the forest trail. The first lasting snow of winter was perhaps only days away, and the air was moist and chill. Most of the area was sparsely covered with conifers, whose heavy scent curled into the lungs of the travelers and intoxicated them with daydreams of laureled mountainsides and soaring eagles. The only sound was the crunching of the frost crusted pathway beneath the two pairs of boots, and the light of the noon sun fell in rippling patches through the boughs of the trees. The journey was uneventful and unremarkable, save for the fact that both men relished the freedom of the open wilderness. Grazyn and Barkus could imagine no better a lifestyle. For the last few years they had found a most fortuitous source of employment with which to exercise their aptitude. A Master Tal'Jon, wealthy collector of artifacts and dabbler in the arcane arts, had set residence in the small city of Tarsus, not far from the Dwarven homelands in the Dolomon mountains, and had come across the two aspiring adventurers while perusing the wares of one of the caravans they tended. Easy with words, Grazyn had let on about some local adventures during a recent political upheaval, and before ten minutes passed, a deal was struck. Three years hence, a series of artifact retrievals ensued which rewarded the men with both coin and adventure. Harkening back to the first meeting with the Master, it always seemed as if Tal'Jon knew much of whom he was talking before even a word were exchanged, and Grazyn and Barkus have since learned many times over that their new employer was not a man who left many things to chance. This is the thought that now worried them deeply.  
  
"I don't pretend to understand this one, Barkus, and it makes me uneasy that the Master was so lacking in detail about our assignment." Grazyn had grown accustomed to addressing his friend without making direct eye contact. The notion of looking down upon his lifelong companion, and likewise the convention of forcing Barkus to look up, was somehow disrespectful and Grazyn would tolerate no such occurance. "Aye, there be trouble bewing in this 'n, I'd wager. But he'd not send us if he didn't think us capable, that much I believe. Best ye keep yer blades sharp and ready, lad. No tellin' what we're getting into this time." The Master had indeed given his favroite pair of scavengers only sparse details of the mission, including the location and general appearance of the desired item, but none of the usual list of dangers and contingencies for which to be prepared. All they knew was that the deserted Temple of Ashpet in the Mayu Canyon housed an ancient artifact known as the Guardian Amulet of Sorelei. Sorelei was once the queen and priestess ruler of a small but influential tribe of the Mayu nation which occupied the mountainous river valley downstream from the canyon. The amulet may possess demonic powers, but its historical value made it an item of considerable value, and hence of interest to Master Tal'Jon. As the two men continued along the forest trail, Grazyn's thoughts waxed into the past, "Tell me, Barkus, would my father ever have ventured such a risky journey as this?" Grazyn was very young when his father died, but he knew a considerable amount about the man through many late evenings listening to Barkus' voice. Grazyn's father, Ven-Tial, was a caravan operator who carted between the Dwarven mines of Dolomon and the riverside city of Tarsus, and it was in this occupation that the man met and established a bond with Barkus. The Dwarf eventually regarded Ven-Tial's family dear as his own, and looked after Grazyn since the day the young man was born. "I'd known yer father a full twenty years, and never knew 'im to be half as reckless as you, lad. But his spirit of adventure, aye, that's the same, and I canna say certain that he'd not take it up." The response seemed to satisfy the young man at first, but Grazyn was then struck with a more sobering thought, "I know that Dwarves are long lived, perhaps the lifespans of four men or more. I suppose someday you'll be telling tales of the mighty Grazyn to my impetuous sons someday. Not too bright a future, eh, Barkus?" Barkus laughed as he kicked over an anthill near the side of the path. The ants scurried about, some in search of their queen, some carrying eggs to safety, and all communicating with each other in voices too faint to hear. "I'll tell ye something boy, and just this once. 'Tis true a Dwarf lives longer than a man, but it is only because our race is bred for unending toil in the mountains. Digging ore and precious metals is tedious backbreaking work, such is the life of a Dwarf, and he's cursed to bear the years of unending labor. Nay, if a person's life be a candle, then his worth is in how much brightness he puts forth. Aye, human lives burn fast and hot, but a Dwarf spirit burns slow and dim. So, tell me lad, which is the better fate? But I'll tell you this one thing more, 'afore we get into a scuffle 'an I lose me thoughts, takin' you and yer father along 'as given me vigor, an' I ne'er felt as alive before with my clansman as I do now with the likes of ye. Someday I'll return to Dolomon to right the wrongs, and mayhap reunite my people. But fer now, it's eyes forward to a purse of coin at the end of an adventure worth tellin' yer grandchildren. Har!" Grazyn continued beside his friend in silence, feeling a slight pang of melancholy piercing through a heart otherwise full of pride.  
  
The travelers continued through the piny forest path as the sun lowered below the mountainous horizon, casting orange shadows upon the ground and bringing a strange monotonic light wich seemed to dispel nature's variances as all but illusion. Barkus' ears pricked, and he uttered in a gruff whisper, "Gad, dulo-tan!" This was native Dwarvish tongue, a phrase which Grazyn knew to mean danger was coming, and they had best disperse and assume defensive positions. More than once Grazyn found it ironic that the slow and methodical Dwarven race would have such a quick phrase for something that would take several words in Common Tongue, but on the other hand, given the ponderous nature of the Dwarves, perhaps the words were born of necessity. There was a sound of brush and branches being ripped from their holds, as if the trees themselves were uprooting in an effort to avoid the oncoming menace. Barkus crouched low in the lee side of a low hanging conifer on one side of the trail, and Grazyn took position fehind a fallen log on the other. Both men stayed motionless as their mysterious guest burst into the pathway. The figure was human in appearance, a full head taller than Grazyn, and clad in what at first appeared to be hunting garb, but with a hood preventing any facial identification, and wearing a shirt of chain under a brown baldric to which was attached a full quiver. The figure spun around, hurled a longbow with broken string aside, and held a spear low to the ground with both hands, as if bracing for a charge. From somewhere in the brush, beyond the sight of the two men, a throaty howl issued, and was answered by three or four others nearby of like kind. Wolves were common in this area, and as a consequence of the sparse vegetation and cruel winters, the wolf packs that survived here had evolved into cunning and coordinated hunters. Within moments, the lead wolf engaged the defender with a salivated tongue hanging over long snaggled canines, lungs panting atop a heart of ferocious appetite. Barkus was soon rooted from his perch by a surprised wolf who had been circling the quarry, and who met with a merciful end by a single blow to the head from the Dwarf's hammer. Grazyn sprang behind another of the beasts, and the steely ring of his twin short swords simultaneously ripped from their sheathes was soon followed by a cry of pain from a wolf with punctured hindquarters. The mysterious guest was only barely aware of the unsolicited help, and fixed eyes on the lead wolf, who approached cautiously with evil intent. The defender feinted a forward lunge with the speartip pressed forward and low, forcing the wolf back on his haunches, which it then used as a springboard to leap upon its prey. Just as the beast left the ground, the mysterious figure jammed the butt of the spear shaft into the ground and pivoted the point under the left shoulder of descending predator. The spear tip crunched into bone, and the wielder propelled the wounded animal through his leap in a complete arc to land several feet away. The great grey wolf groaned, blood spitting through his nose and oozing from the shoulder wound. It stood briefly on three legs, listed it's head and whined in disbelief, and fell lifeless. Two remaining wolves, most likely young females, retreated into the pine forest, no doubt to comfort their fatherless cubs and search for a more readily available food supply.  
  
Grazyn rushed over to the unknown traveler, and as he bent down to assist a hand up, he saw through the hood for the first time. The face was definitely female, with dark skin, heavy set eyebrows shading obsidian eyes, and a slight point to the eartips. Her nose was slightly upturned, and although Grazyn found her somewhat attractive, there was an unnatural wrongness which pervaded her demeanor. She was obviously only partially human, but looked like no half-elf he had ever seen before. "Well, m'lady, it seems as though your hunting trip has not met with much success," opened Grazyn with a warming smile as he hoisted her to her feet, "tell me who are you and what brings you this far from civilization?" She held his gaze for what seemed a second too long, as if recalling some distant memory, and then replied briskly, "Karsa is my name, and you shall watch your manner with me, knave, for I am of the noble house of Resiq, of the port city of Anatolis." She quickly stood to her full height, and briefly glowered down upon Grazyn and Barkus with cold uncompassionate eyes, but then quickly returned to the ground in pain from a large gash that ran from her upper right thigh to her knee. Grazyn was quick to assess the situation, and bowed low, "Well, I see most of your weapons have broken, and since night is falling, I suggest you make camp with us this eve, so that we might tend your wounds and be entertained by the tale of how our noble huntress came to find us here." She started to protest, but then thought better of the matter, and acquiesced with a long exhale and nod of the head.   
  
The trio soon found a rock outcropping within a few hundre paces distance which seemed to afford decent shelter against the constant evening breeze, and more importantly to Barkus, a contained area within which to light a fire. Once seated near a cooking spit and munching upon a brick of sweet cornbread from Grazyn's pack, Karsa's mood grew more talkative, " 'Tis true that game trappers from my land seldom venture this far the northlands, but I have been set upon a specific mission to catch the hide of a great White Wolf. It was my mother's wish to be outfitted with the beast's hide by the onset of winter, and I have traveled far to find my quarry."   
"Har! 'at must be some love ye mother has fer ye! Sending ye out here in the wilderness with naught but a broken bow and flimsy spear! Ye could've been killed as sure as I'm looking at yer pointy-eared face!" Barkus was perhaps harsh, but Grazyn recognized the tone of his mentor in that voice, a voice of reason that would no sooner scold a noble thrillseeker than admonish a child. Grazyn was not so sure all facts were known, however, so as they sat about the fire warming the evening meal, he pressed with further inquiry, "Ah yes, may I introduce Barkus, Dwarven warrior and worrier unmatched? And I am Grazyn, adventurer and rogue about town, and I must admit I am greatly piqued by this mother of yours who would risk a daughter's life for a white fur coat?" Karsa stretched her tired legs so that the soles of her feet faced inches from the fire, and tilted her head back upon her elbows to let her long black hair fall to the ground.   
"Perhaps my appearance is also a curiosity? Hmmm, it is always the same. I shall give you a short history, then, as a reward for assisting me with those wolves. Pity not one of them was white enough to fool my mother. Ahh, my mother. Well, Grazyn and Barkus, I am obviously a half-breed. I don't even know who my father was, but 'tis my mother that is the crux of my life's story. She was, and still is, a spoiled noble brat, child of an oafish minister who was never home and a neurotic mother who cringed at the sight of a spilled glass of water. She had fallen in with a hedonistic society in Anatolis, whose pastimes oft involved sneaking down into the gladiatorial barracks to partake of carnal pleasures with the victors. Such was her audacity that she would flaunt this fact in front of parents and household staff. On one particular occasion, the summer games featured a slave caravan of half-bred orcs, gnolls, and the gods know what else, all housed in the usual facilities. Were it service of a wager, or pehaps clouded judgement due to a fearsome intake of opiates, she mated with one of those brutes. Forty weeks later, I was born. I was a shame to house of Resiq, the bastard daughter whose heritage could not be hidden or denied. I will not bore you further with tales of my childhood and adolescence, save that there were a few in my house who saw my potential as a warrior and huntress, and that I take whatever occasion I find to leave that dreadful place and escape the silken chains of my mother's love." Grazyn and Barkus listened intently to every word, those spoken and those not, and exchanged a quick knowing glance. Karsa could not be trusted, but her injuries and lack of working weaponry left her too vulnerable to be left alone. For now, they would have to accept her as a travel companion.  
  
Gallin comanded four sentries to take a defensive position on either side of the stone portal, which itself was only faintly discernable from the face of the wall due to a slight seam which was indented no more than the width of his fingernail. He stroked his short blonde beard with satisfaction and removed his outer robes. With the remaining two guards positioned behind him, Gallin then stood at the top of a small three stair landing with arms raised in front of the mysterious door, uttering words of a forgotten language once only spoken by those who sought to invoke the ancient and cruel demonic powers. The aperture was centered in the face of a cliff, into which were carved heads of gargoyles and demon visages to mark the location of the Temple of Ashpet. As Gallin intoned the verses of the incantation, the stone within the door frame began to crumble and flake. Upon his final utterance, he pulled from his sleeve a small blue crystalline sphere, no larger than an orange, and hurled it into the disintegrating orifice. A blast of sand blinded the guards and caused them to bow their heads and rub their eyes. A whoosh of stagnant air issued from the now open fissure, and sent one of the nearby mercenaries wretching in pain and vomit. "Ahh, at last, the secrets of the temple of Ashpet are laid bare. Rediag and Tansmer will be most pleased," exclaimed the dusty Gallin. "Get the torches and prepare the cartographs!" he barked at his henchmen, some of whom were still reeling from the explosion. But then something caught Gallin's eye, not from the temple entrance, but from the edge of clearing about twenty yards away. The humid moon wept through the sparse treeline, and Gallin had caught the unmistakeable glint of polished metal.   
"Stand forth, if you dare, I'll not be stalked by thieves this night!" Gallin stood confidently beside his six guards, now fully armed and ready for combat.   
A silhouetted figure emerged from the treeline, clad in mostly black except for a long white tassal that hung behind his head, and the gleam of two swords held crossed in front his chest. "Gallin, you scavenger, it seems as though there may be more than price put upon this mark, today, eh?"   
Gallin strained his eyes to penetrate the unrevealing moonlight, "Grazyn! Step no further, lackey of Tal'Jon! This is not the day to settle our score, though the thought of doing so almost makes me forgetful of why I am here."   
Grazyn bellowed in return, "If you are here for the Periapt of Ashpet, Gallin, then you have already come too late. I'll not let amateurs such as you get in the way of my livelihood, so step aside!"   
Gallin returned a smug grin and sneered through his teeth, "Ha! Always a trickster with more bark than bite. There is no Periapt as you well know! I know why you are here, the same as I. The astronomers were correct about this night, and it is no coincidence we are both here at the same time."   
Grazyn approached just within perimeter of the armed encampment, torchlight flickering wildly in his dangerous liquid green eyes. "Neither do I seek direct conflict with you this night, Gallin, for I have more important matters at hand. But hear this ... I will await your return out here in the darkness. If you succeed in retrieving the amulet, however doubtful that may be, then be prepared for a fight to keep it. I can promise that you will survive with most body parts in tact, but I make no guarantees for the rest of your party." As his final words trailed off, Grazyn leaped backwards and disappeared into the shadows of the forest edge. Gallin cursed, "Gods damn you, Grazyn, I'll have the Amulet, and I'll have your head, too!" But his threat fell helplessly against the long unhearing shadows which bordered the clearing.  
  
"Well lad, we're in a peck of trouble now, ain't we?" whispered Barkus as Grazyn slid into the space under the boughs of an ancient knurled pine. From this vantage point, Grazyn, Barkus, and Karsa witnessed the remarkable event of Gallin's entry to the temple. "I saw fear in the faces of Gallin's henchmen, and Gallin is at heart a coward. If his men survive the temple traps, perhaps this will actually make our job easier..."   
A bewildered Karsa interjected, "Who is this Gallin? and who is Tal'Jon?" She had been a fairly silent but amiable companion during the last few hours of the trek through the woods, but was now uncertain of her position within the little group. Her bandaged leg wound permitted travel, and the strength of her tall slender frame had been uncompromised by the preceding wolf attack. Barkus had also given her one of his best hunting knives, which although could be used as a weapon itself, was put to the task of sharpening a spearpoint from a young oak sapling which had been struggling amongst the pines. Barkus restrained a muffled laugh, and explained, "Gallin is another agent oft used in a line of work similar t'our own. His divinations have given him the advantage in unearthing many an artifact, but he's ne'er yet beaten us to a big prize yet. Now as to Tal'Jon, 'tis better ye not speak that name aloud lest the wrong ears catch wind. That's all I'll say about 'im."   
Karsa recognized the stonewall, and changed the subject, "I see. So, Grazyn, we sit here and wait Gallin out?" Grazyn looked surprisedly into her quizzical eyes, and replied, "Now, you must know by now that is not my style, Karsa, I am no cutthroat! No, let him think we await him out here. His cynical mind will have no trouble believing that's what we'll do, and he won't be watching his back once inside. If all goes well, we'll follow and snatch the mark right out from under him and leave him to the defend our backs on the way out!" Barkus shook his head, muttering Dwarvish curses to the pine cones. Things were getting complicated, and given that they had no information about what was actually inside, the risks were high.  
  
Gallin was distraught but determined to press onward. If Grazyn were here, then the horrors inside the temple were only the beginning of his worries. But there was naught he could do at this point since Grazyn had disappeared into the darkness, and searching him out would only waste precious time. "Let us move inside!" he commanded his troops. The entrance was a close-walled tunnel, with half rotten rafters set above to reinforce the ceiling of crumbling limestone. Apparently the hermetic seal of the door had preserved at least some of the structural integrity, so Gallin proceded cautiously with torch thrust in front of him and six guards readied behind. The acrid air inside the chamber seemed to suck the moisture out of each breath, and returned the sensation of dusty riverbeds dried over thousands of years. The corridor turned sharply to left after about twenty paces, and the unsteady burn of the torches cast long, twisted shadows which writhed upon the walls behind. No guards were left outside the entrance, as Gallin had wisely planned that he might need each of them once inside.  
  
"Now's the time, move in slowly," Grazyn commanded. Since Karsa seemed quite capable of controlling her movements, and knew techniques of stalking silently, Barkus and Grazyn had agreed that it would be better to keep her nearby. If she lost faith and bolted, then that would be her choice, but for now, she might prove useful at least as a packmule to bring up the rear. Single file, the three adventurers slowly crept into the temple orifice. As they cleared the sharp left bend, a much larger hall yawned in front of them. Apparently the secret door they had entered was not the main entrance, though the location of the original entrance was not discernable. The hall was perhaps forty paces wide and three times as long, and it was lines along either side with statues of robed priestly figures holding aloft snakes which coiled about their arms and bodies. The floor was polished black marble, and the numerous footprints of Gallin's men were easy to follow in the dust. At the end of the hall was a single brazier, presumably lit by Gallin as he passed through, and a large bronze door set slightly ajar upon its tarnished hinges. Grazyn approached low and silently, and pressed his ear to the door. The bronze door resonated with the sounds of distant footsteps and muted voices, with one particular voice issuing shrill and excited commands. Karsa and Barkus took positions to either side of the door, each straining their senses to piece together an image of what was occuring beyond the great door. There was a silent pause, followed by the snapping sound of a hundred longbows, and the whishing sounds of a hundred arrows. Barkus grinned at Grazyn, "Think Gallin learnt a few things 'bout traps in Ethios, eh?" Grazyn returned a mischievous smile, recalling the immense satisfaction of how he thwarted Gallin's attempt to short cut his approach through the haunted ruins of the Granite Tower by reactivating a trap which Gallin had thought disabled. With ear pressed back against the door, Grazyn heard renewed activity and the shuffling of feet. Grazyn's face suddenly darkened when first he heard a hissing, as if steam released from a kettle, followd by a gurgled scream which reached a pitch and then abruptly fell silent. All the little party next heard men shouting and swords being drawn, and an unidentifiable ghastly scraping noise, as if a small child were dragging a grinder's stone across the floor. The shouts of the men soon turned to screams of horror , and the clashing sounds of metal blades intensified. Again, one particular shrill voice could be heard barking orders, but the panic of the leader was likely no consolation to the men being slaughtered. A terrified cry for retreat preceded Gallin's return, who thrust the bronze door aside as he raced down the hall, sending Grazyn reeling backwards into one of the staues and almost toppling it over. Gallin's robes were torn and bloodsoaked, and he clawed at the back of his neck to remove what appeared to be a mummified, skeletal hand with one finger wedged into his right ear, and the others clenched about his narrow shoulders. It took mere seconds for the screaming Gallin to pass the adventure party, and it was doubtful he was ever aware of their presence.  
The moans of the remaining dying men soon came to an end, followed by sounds of bodies and equipment being dragged across the floor. The last sounds heard resembled the grindstones slowly returning into position, and then the eerie silence howled softly in the strained ears of the trio of tomb raiders. Grazyn picked himslef up and joind Karsa and Barkus at the threshold of the bronze door. They peered down yet another short hallway, which opened into a large chamber straight away. Three torches left by Gallin's men were still alight, but the black marble floors and walls seemed hungry to quickly absorb the offensive radiation. Prowling the short hallway, Barkus ran his fingers across a triangular stone set in the floor, slightly depressed. He glanced to the walls on either side, and saw piles of arrows heaped against a vertical array of tiny slots. "Standard fare, here. Surprised those arrows stayed strung over this many years ..." as he concluded his statement, an errant arrow whizzed across the hall, piercing Barkus' backpack and puncturing a gourd of his favorite wine. "Blast it all, there goes me wine! Bah, it'll take more 'n sharp sticks to stop me! Well, that should be the last of 'em. Come across, lads and ladies." Karsa moved though next, carefully stepping around the pool of wine gathering at Barkus' feet beneath a toothy grin. The trio paused at the entrance to the next chamber, which was much bigger than the preceding hall outside the bronze door. Again, the floor was polished black marble, but the walls were hung with half-rotted tapestries depicting scenes of ancient battles, sacrificial rituals to the snake goddess Ashpet, and lurid carnal acts of bestiality and sodomy. At the center of the chamber was a rectangular marble dais, with raised relief carvings of intercoiled snakes and venemous fangs about the sides, and a smooth polished obsidian surface upon the top. Centered atop the polishe surface without doubt lay the Guardian Amulet of Sorelei, suspended inside a sphere made of crossed iron circlets. Beyond the dais on the far wall were no tapestries, but rather four alcoves, each set about two feet back from the plane of the wall. Between the alcoves and dais, Grazyn could see the piled bodies of six freshly murdered men, heaped atop an assortment of older skeletal remains and equipment. The blood had soaked into the aged dust around them, creating a reddish sludge of coagulated mud and sinew. Barkus examined the chaotic patterns of footprints, but could not discriminate anything to reveal what had caused the deaths of Gallin's armed guards. Grazyn fingered the alcoves, and holding a torch closly, could see that the demarkation between the alcove door and jamb of the wall was fresh, as if the doors had been recently used. "It is reasonable to assume that whatever killed these men awaits us behind these doors, Barkus. I'd say that Gallin must have tripped a switch when he tried to remove the amulet's cage." Barkus inspected the circlet cage more closely. The circlet wires appeared to be made of simple iron, and the golden amulet hung at its center by a silver chain. The cage appeared to be resting upon the dais, but there was something about its position that defied the Dwarf's sense of mechanics. "Well, lad, we can give it a go, but we best keep near the doors in case a speedy exit is required. I'd say our best bet is to take the entire cage, and worry about extracting the amulet after we get far from here." Grazyn nodded in agreement and circled back to the chamber entrance where Karsa stood nervously watching the rear. "All right Barkis, I am going to assume that the cage is somehow tied to the dais. I shall attempt to slide aknife edge underneath and lift it away. You and Karsa take positions on either room corner by the door, and be prepared for whatever comes out of those alcoves." Grazyn padded across the floor and lay upon the table top. The stone was cool but not resistant as he slid his upper body until his head was mere inches from the cage. He could see that the crossed circlets were bound at the top and bottom by triangular metal plates, so he drew a knife and slowly began to force it between the lower plate and the dais surface. He realized too late that the cage was bound not at the bottom, but at the top. Fine metal wires suspended the cage above the dais, and Grazyn's motion disturbed them just enough that he saw their vibration in the dim torchlight. From unseen corners of the room, the trio could hear the tinkle of frail glass spheres dropping onto hard marble floors, and a greenish gas seeped into the room. Grazyn's eyes burned and he began to feel consciousness slipping away, and the sound of grindstones lurching out of position sent a panic through his soul. Barkus rushed to drag Grazyn away from the alcoves, but the gas was having its effect upon him as well, and his step faltered. "Barkus, go!" wheezed Grazyn, as he could feel the grinding of the stone alcove doors opening before him. Out of each of the four openings stepped a large skeletal figure, each armed with a sabre but only three of which carrying a small triangular shield, while the remaining was holding forth a handless forearm. The grinning skulls hissed with fury, and the eyeless sockets were a hypnotic lure to draw the unwary into abyssal darkness. Barkus struggled to retain awareness and pulled at Grazyn's limp body. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Karsa circling the dais, holding in her hand a strange green vial. She pulled open the vial, quickly wafted the vapors of the contents to her own nose, and tossed the liquid directly upon the two men. A burning sensation shot through Barkus' nostrils, bringing with the pain a clarity of thought and surge of adrenaline throughout his sturdy muscles. Grazyn, too, felt the energization, and cleared his head in time to roll aside from the downward slash of a skeletal sabre. Both men armed and readied to face the skeletal guardians, evenly divided on either side of the dais. With a cry, Barkus charged the nearest skeleton, intending to smash the skull but instead glancing off a raised shield. Grazyn pulled his twin short swords and lunged toward the nearby shieldless skeleton. With a frightful howl he cried out, as both swordpoints drove straight through the rib cage of the skeletal body and pierced out the back, effectively locking his hands deep inside the warrior's torso and trapping him therein. Chunks of putrid flesh oozed between his fingers, and the foul stench of the half rotted corpse ignited bile in his throat. "What'cha doin' lad! Get yer bloody hands out of there!" Barkus feinted and attempted to work his way closer to his partner, while also drawing the attention of the three other guardians. Grazyn groaned as he dropped his swords and attempted to pull away from the mummified guardian, who was quite at a loss how to deal with the internal intruder. The skeleton could not angle his sabre into thrusting position, so instead attempted to crush Grazyn into the wall. Grazyn braced for impact and brought up his feet, launching himself deeper into the monster's torso and sending it flying backward into a second guardian engaged with Barkus behind. The blow cause the man and two skeletons to collapse on the floor. As Grazyn pulled free, Karsa stepped in with a sword retrieved from one of Gallin's fallen comrades and hacked one head off while Grazyn bashed the remaining head with its own helmet. Grazyn quickly regained his swords and squared with Barkus against the remaining two skeletal warriors. "That's more like it, boy, and I knew that girl'd come in handy!" as Barkus laid a hammer into the sternum of a crumbling skeleton. As the two prepared to finish off the last remaining guardian, Karsa raced upon the dais and pulled out a three pronged instrument from her pack. The mechanical device latched a prong around each side of the triangular metal plate atop the circlet cage with a metallic click, and the ribs of the cage suddenly dropped like the peels of a banana. Karsa reached in and snatched the Guardian Amulet, stowed it, and raced away from the chamber, looking back as if to say something, but then exiting without uttering a word. "Damn her, I knew she was more than what she seemed!" whined Grazyn as he ducked under a sabre swing which caught the white tassal of his headpiece and snapped his neck to one side. Rolling low with the blow, Grazyn chopped the thigh of the last skeleton while simultaneously Barkus brought his hammer down upon the monster's skull, rendering it into a pile of shattered bone. The battle was won, but the prize was lost.  
  
Master Tal'Jon stood at the window, looking down from his tower at the river docks below. Smoke from his nearby hookah first wafted toward the open air, but then recoiled and clung to his garments as if caught by magentic force. There was indeed an attractiveness about the man, clad richly in braided purple robes and neatly trimmed beard, but the far away look in his wisened dark eyes would reveal to any onlooker that this was not a person consumed with appearances. The room in which he stood was his favorite, a library of works collected throughout the world, some possessed of magical incantations, some of wonderous stories of far away lands and ancient cultures. It was here in fact that Grazyn had spent much of his time learning between assignments, for the Master was one who encouraged scholarly pursuit of knowledge that it might benefit future efforts. A servant appeared at the far end of the room, bowing low and utering apologies for the intrsuion. "Are they here? Then bring them in." Two figures entered the room, each clad in light clothing and soft boots. Tal'Jon permitted no weapons within his sanctuary, and despite the absence of armed guards, visitors often quickly discerned that the proprietor was far from defenseless. The two men, one short and one tall, bowed low and took positions upon a cache of floor cushions in the south corner of the room. Tal'Jon stood with hands clapsed behind his back, still facing out his window, "What have you brought me?" Grazyn shot a quick glance and Barkus, who kept his gaze fixed upon the floor, "We do not have the Amulet you desired, Master. It seems we were not quick enough to secure it before it was stolen." Tal'Jon turned slowly and exhaled deeply, "I know Gallin was sent on a similar mission, was he responsible for your failure?" Barkus interjected, "Gallin! Why that idiot couldn't find 'is own arse if he had a map, I ..." Grazyn cut him off, "Gallin actually proved to be of some help, but no, Master, there was another whose life we verily saved but who then turned upon us. We are at present preparing a journey to Anatolis to find this person, for I believe there must have been at least partial truth in the traitor's tale." Tal'Jon sensed a long oration brewing in Grazyn's mind, and had not the patience to suffer it any longer, "I have other tasks for you to attend to, you will not be going to Anatolis. You have served me well, despite the fact that you do not bring me my amulet. You shall be paid in full." Grazyn and Barkus exchanged surprised looks as Tal'Jon laid before then each a cloth sack heavy with the weight of gold coins. As they rose and started for the door, Tal'Jon blurted, "Oh, and I have one more thing for you, Barkus. Catch!" Barkus reflexively snatched the package from its path of flight. It was a long flat object, wrapped in a crimson velvet with golden borders and a leathern braided cord. He opened the gift, only to discover it was the very same hunting knife he had given Karsa! "Wha? I think there be more to our story, lad. Perhaps our reverend Master would care to fill in some details?" Tal'Jon moved over to his reading chair, and spread his robes as he leaned back into the plush satin cushions. "Observant as ever, Barkus. And honest, Grazyn. That is the reason I needed my best scavengers for this mission, but even they could not have completed this task alone. Karsa works for me now, at least for a while. She returned the amulet to me two days before your return, no doubt because of the time you wasted attempting to track her down.  
"Why did you not tell us about her, then?" pleaded Grazyn.  
"Her presence was crucial to successful retrieval of the artifact, but I know you both well enough that you would never have willingly accepted her as a partner. No, her appearance was made to seem coincidental, and her wounds were self-inflicted to assuage concerns over her authenticity. The wolf attack was unplanned, but it proved most effective."  
"But then why did we need her, o' all-knowing Master? I ne'er saw her do naught but a simple lock trick, presumably with a device you supplied!" queried Barkus sarcastically.  
"Ahh yes, that brings us to the point, eh? I assume at one point you wondered why I did not disclose the usual case history of the item of my desire? The omission was necessary to confirm your particiaption. For had you known the power of the Amulet, I am quite sure you would have declined my employ. Allow me to explain. Sorelei was priestess of a vicious culture of demon worshippers, and assassinations were common among the nobility. To preserve her position, she crafted this amulet to hold in abeyance the souls of four eunich guardians, such that they lived and died in service of her protection. So powerful was the enchantement that the guardians were given an undeath which long outlived the priestess herself. But what is not commonly known, and what would surely give Gallin some final comfort, is that the amulet's effects are indiscriminate within a small radius of influence, such that any thief who attempted removal of the artifact would soon also fall under its power, return it to the altar, and stand entranced therein until death."  
"You are right that we would not have undertaken such a fools mission had we known, Master, but this still does not explain how Karsa was able to avoid the curse?" Grazyn was now piecing the story together, but was in need of this critical information.  
"Karsa was the key. As I said, the amulet was enchanted to enslave Sorelei's male servants, but apparently had no effect upon the females. I needed Karsa simply because she was a woman, and because I could trust her at least this far to uphold a family obligation. The Amulet is safely secured, gentlemen, so there is nothing more to fear. You may go." Tal'Jon stood up from his chair and returned to his gaze upon the riverfront below the window.  
"Come lad, I am all for doing an honest man's work, but this one has gone too far. Barkus' ain't willin' to play games with his life or anyone else's," the Dwarf muttered as he started past the servant who held open the library door.  
Grazyn started to follow, but paused and looked back over his shoulder, "One other thing, Master. Karsa did in fact save us with a potion of sorts, used to counteract the noxious gasses in the temple traps. Was that also your provision?"   
Tal'Jon let the faintest hint of a smile cross his lips, "I have frequently found bromide salts an effective remedy to the overpowering pungence of the daily catch which is laid upon the docks below my window during the hot summer months. Return tomorrow, Grazyn, and bring your friend. There is much we need to discuss for the future."  
  
  
Copyright 2001  
argyle3@altavista.com  



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